Merle
by TanGrrYnes
Summary: A glimpse into the childhoods of Merle and Daryl Dixon. Poor white trash kids living with their abusive, alcoholic father after the death of their mother. As an adult, Daryl doesn't have any good memories of Merle, but Merle doesn't see it that way.
1. Chapter 1

Merle stood on the corner of the street, watching his house from a distance. It was a ranch style mobile home with overgrown weeds surrounding it and a muddy clunker of a pickup parked in the grass. It was getting dark, and the street lamps just turned on, bathing Merle in a yellow glow. He puffed on his cigarette slowly, wanting to make it last as long as he could before going home.

"Merle Dixon, is that you?" A voice said behind him. Merle turned to see Mrs. Dubois, his neighbor, craning her neck out her kitchen window to get a look at him. "Back from Juvy, are yeh?"

"Go back to your soap opera, Debby, you might miss something important," Merle said as he turned back to the street. Mrs. Dubois scowled and stuck her nosey self back into her house and shut the window. Merle sighed. He could hear his father clear across the street screaming at Daryl. It was interesting for Merle to view his home out here, and see it how everyone else did. They were poor, white trash just like everybody else in this neighborhood but everybody out here still thought they were better than the Dixons. Merle took one last puff off his smoke and flicked it to the ground, not bothering to stamp it out as he walked by.

It sounded like Daryl was getting an earful for not doing his chores. Merle stood outside the front door a minute longer and listened. Rage boiled up in him as he imagined his father whipping Daryl with a belt, or a switch, or anything he could get his hands on. He burst through the unlocked front door, fists clenched and ready for a fight.

"The hell are you doin' here, boy?" Pops said angrily. He loosened his grip on Daryl's hair and stepped back to look at Merle. "Thought you weren't getting' out till next month."

"They lemme go on accounta my good behavior," Merle said through gritted teeth. "I toldja that on the phone last week, Pops. What're you doin' to Daryl?"

"Boy forgot his homework at school," Pops explained, as if that were a good reason to be ripping up Daryl's hair out of his head.

"You never cared about school," Merle told Pops, shaking his head. It was true. Pops didn't give a damn if they went to school at all. He'd be damned if his boys learned more about writing in cursive and talkin' proper than they did about surviving in the wilderness. The only reason they went to school at all was cause there was laws.

"Get your ass in your room, Daryl," Pops said, shoving Daryl away and booting him hard in the rear. Daryl scurried to his room he shared with Merle, when Merle was home, and shut the door behind him. Inside, he stood by the door, listening for anything he might hear, rubbing his sore head and sore butt.

Merle sat down at the table and helped himself to a beer while his father picked food out of his teeth with his fingers.

"So how was it this time?" Pops asked.

"Same as always," Merle said. "Don't look nobody in the eyes, don't drop the soap, don't make trouble."

Pops nodded. "If you ever go back, don't bother comin' home. Ye hear? I'm sick of you….My son, the drug addict, my son, smashing mailboxes, my son, underage drinkin—" Pops ripped the beer bottle from Merle's mouth. "Get yer ass outta my sight before I knock yer lights out," he hissed. "Fuckin' disgrace."

Merle was careful to not roll his eyes in front of Pops, though he wanted to. He silently rose from the table and joined Daryl in their room.


	2. Chapter 2

Merle was careful to not roll his eyes in front of Pops, though he wanted to. He silently rose from the table and joined Daryl in their room.

Merle plunked down on his bed and sighed. He was finding it hard to breathe. Maybe it was because it was hot as hell and stuffy in here, but maybe it was because being back home was suffocating.

"Did he hit you?" Merle asked as he reached for a book to read.

"Nah," Daryl said, shaking his head. "Not like he hits you."

"Good," Merle said, opening his book and fixing his gaze on it.

Merle's homecoming went better than he expected. He was almost certain he was going to get a beating when he came home. Maybe he didn't this time because Pops was surprised. He was so drunk he forgot Merle was coming home earlier than planned. He wondered how things went for Daryl in his absence. He knew he at least got to eat at school, so that was good. As of yet, Pops never gave Daryl a black-and-blue beating like he did Merle sometimes, but Merle was always wary that it could happen at any moment. Of course, Merle was the troublemaker and probably deserved it better than Daryl did, but Daryl wasn't exactly an angel. He found plenty of mischief on his own.

"What you readin'?" Daryl asked from his bed.

"Pride and Prejudice," Merle told him.

"What's it 'bout?"

"Rich people bein' assholes."

"Merle?"

"What?"

"You gon' stay here, right?"

"Where the fuck else would I go?" Merle asked, still buried in his book.

"Back to Juvie," Daryl said. He stared at Merle with that look, that sad, hurt, baby doe eye look.

"I ain't goin' back to Juvie, Daryl. I fuck up again, and it's grown-up prison."

"Do ye go there so much cause ye hate it here?" Daryl asked.

"Listen, Daryl….Juvie ain't no fuckin' picnic, alright? I don' wanna go back, even though this place sucks balls. Don't act like me and you won't go there either. Okay?"

"Well, what'd ye do to get there in first place?" Daryl asked, frowning. He didn't actually know why Merle went to Juvie at all.

"Cause I ain't never did my homework, that's why," Merle lied. "So do your homework, stay in school, and you'll be fine. Okay?"

"'Kay," Daryl said quietly.

There was a long moment of silence, maybe five whole minutes.

"Merle?"

"What, Daryl?" Merle asked, trying to contain his annoyance.

"I missed you."

"Don't be such a faggot," shot Merle. But behind the pages of his book, he allowed himself to smile. He missed his baby brother, even if he wouldn't admit it.


End file.
